


Welcome To The Black Parade

by sandean_cas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, BAMF Castiel (Supernatural), Based on a My Chemical Romance Song, Castiel Can Hear Longing (Supernatural), Castiel Makes Mistakes (Supernatural), Castiel Makes Pie (Supernatural), Castiel Makes Pie For Dean Winchester, Castiel Makes a Deal with The Shadow (Supernatural), Castiel Makes the First Move (Supernatural), Castiel Thinks Dean Winchester is Dead, Castiel and Dean Winchester Falling in Love, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Castiel and Dean Winchester Need to Use Their Words, Castiel and Dean Winchester Use Their Words, Castiel and Dean Winchester in Love, Castiel is So Done (Supernatural), Castiel is So Done with Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Dean Winchester Deserves to be Happy, Dean Winchester Prays to Castiel, Dean Winchester Says "I Love You", Dean Winchester Thinks Castiel is Dead, Dean Winchester in Heaven, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Dean Winchester is So Done, Dean Winchester is So Whipped, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Episode: s15e03 The Rupture, Episode: s15e03 The Rupture - Bunker Breakup Scene, Episode: s15e09 The Trap, Episode: s15e09 The Trap - Dean Winchester's Prayer Scene, First Dates, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Heaven, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Quote: Family Don't End With Blood (Supernatural), Quote: He's in love with humanity (Supernatural), Quote: I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition. (Supernatural), Quote: Without your power you're basically just a baby in a trenchcoat. (Supernatural), Sad Ending, Sam Winchester is So Done, Season/Series 15, Song: Welcome to the Black Parade, The Empty (Supernatural), This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, dean winchester's heaven
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:20:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 11,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22394659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sandean_cas/pseuds/sandean_cas
Summary: One-shots of all the ways Castiel can be taken by The Empty....“I’d like to welcome you all here today to mourn the passing of a good friend.” His voice is solemn, the slight waver indicates that something is actually wrong – that Dean isn’t just playing a prank on them.“He’s stuck with me for years.” Dean exhales. Castiel glances at Sam to see if he has any inkling of what is happening.Why would Dean call them here? Today? To stand near a shallow grave?The set-up is a funeral. Not a hunter’s funeral but a more traditional one. But, the thing is, there’s no body to be seen. And in Castiel’s knowledge, for a funeral, you need a corpse.Sam raises his hand half-way.“What?” Dean seems annoyed.“Are you talking about Cass?”“No. Sam!” Dean rolls his eyes. “How can we have a funeral for Cass if he’s standing right there.”"What I'm trying to say is that I love you Cass"Castiel takes a step forward, wanting to pull Dean close – to hug him or to taste his lips, for the very first time – when he feels the tugging on his grace.In his confusion, he stumbles, falling directly into the grave that Dean dug.Never to rise again.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 70
Kudos: 100





	1. Welcome To The Black Parade

**Author's Note:**

> This is my 50th work!!
> 
> To celebrate this momentous mile stone, this is a special fic. A depressing one, but special none the less :D 
> 
> I really hope you enjoy it! <3

Castiel stands at the entrance to heaven’s pearly white gates. His eyes are shut tightly in prayer, and to keep his tears at bay, but that, is a secondary concern.

“Please hear my prayer.” He begs. _Please don’t leave me here alone._

Cracking his eyes open he’s met with nothing. The wind howls as the skies turn black, as though mourning the passing of the greatest hunter to ever live. He knows he promised Dean to look out for Sam… but he _can’t_. He misses Dean with all his being. It’s been weeks and he can’t bear the thought of Dean’s body rotting in the ground outside the bunker.

He doesn’t want to think of Sam, who had to kill his brother just to save the world – to convince Chuck to leave. He hated every second of their deliberation, going so far as to try and stop them. But Dean knows him well. His trap backfired and Castiel was the one trapped in a ring of holy fire.

…

_“I’m so sorry Cass.” Dean could barely look at him._

_“Dean, don’t do this.” Castiel begs, getting as close as he can to the licking flames. “We will find another way. You can’t leave me here.”_

_“I have no choice.”_

…

His heart broke at those words. Dean… the man who taught him about free-will, his mentor, his role model… was broken. Chained in invisible binds, the thought of freewill all but an illusion to him. And nothing Castiel said could make him stop.

…

_“Dean!” Dean turns, facing him, his face set, shoulders stiff and unpliable. “I love you.”_

_The first thing that falls is Dean’s eyes, no longer able to hold Castiel’s stare. Next, are his shoulders, crumbling under the weight of his words. Next, comes the tears, tumbling down his cheeks like a morbid waterfall._

_And finally… Castiel’s heart falls as Dean’s words drift back to him as he marches out the door. “I’m doing this because I love you too.”_

…

“Castiel.” The angel before him seems smug. “You seek Dean Winchester.”

“I do.”

Silence falls between them.

“Those of us who remain expected this day to come.”

Castiel clenches his jaw, fully prepared to hear that _he_ is no longer allowed entry.

“If you enter…” the angel smirks. “Then you can never leave.”

What? Castiel’s eyes dart back and forth in confusion. “You need me.” he breathes in realisation. “To keep the lights on.”

“We need you to do the duty that you’ve absconded for years!”

Castiel’s shoulders fall at the accusation. “But you will allow me to remain with Dean.”

“Of course.” He sneers. “We don’t want _you_ roaming the halls unguarded.”

Castiel tries not to flinch… he fails, but it’s worth it. To be with Dean again, he’d endure any trials – any shame.

…

Pausing by the door, Castiel wonders why he doesn’t just rip it open and run into Dean’s embrace. He knows that there is a real possibility that Dean will be angry with him for leaving Sam. But there’s also another part… that thinks he might appreciate the company. Castiel’s company.

Trembling fingers wrap around the door knob, twisting it slowly as though diffusing a bomb. Castiel has many expectations for Dean’s heaven. Most revolve around the primary aspects of his personality.

He imagines Dean reliving all his old cases, maybe even making up new ones so solve with Sam. Or running a bar, like Michael had envisioned. He knows that reality stemmed from Dean’s deepest desires, and, was used by Michael to placate him into complacency so that he would not oppose Michael. Castiel though, knows that Dean would prefer the bunker. His room, his things, the place he dubbed his home the past few years.

But when he opens the door, the bright sunlight streaming through it tells him that he was dead wrong.

Dean’s heaven isn’t at the bunker.

The room he enters is strange and massive. Gold and white curtains billow gently with the light breeze, letting in even more of the morning sun. His eyes drift across the quaint set-up of the room and lock onto Dean almost immediately. He’s lying in bed, almost completely naked, as far as Castiel can tell. He’s asleep. Resting. And he countenance looks more peaceful than ever.

He almost feels remiss to disturb his friend in his moments of peace. Castiel contemplates simply sitting near the arm chair by Dean’s bed until he wakes up. Lord knows, he’s done it countless times before. The loud creaking of his footsteps on the wooden floor make his choice for him though.

Dean doesn’t spring up like he usually does when he finds Castiel watching him. This time, it’s more of a slow, serene awakening. Dean’s head doesn’t leave the pillow, but his eyes crack open to stare at him in wonder.

“Cass.” His voice is rough. “Is that you?”

“Yes.” He says, bracing himself for the backlash.

Dean smiles sleepily at him. “Then why are you all the way over there?”

Castiel shrugs. “I – you’re not mad… disappointed?”

“No.” Dean sounds serious now, pushing himself onto his elbows. “I – I’m kind of relieved to be honest. I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Dean.” _The world was unbearable without you._

Shifty eyed, Dean fumbles through his next words. “And Sam? Do you think… you think he’ll be okay?”

“I do.” He says. “He’s… reconnected with Eileen.” Castiel smiles as he remembers the couple. “I feared for him… in the days after your-” He breaks off, looking away, pictures of Dean’s lifeless body flash through his mind. Sam had been the one to do it. And he’d been destroyed in the aftermath, regretting every moment after his decision. “He’s actually the one who told me to try – this. Coming to heaven.”

Dean’s eyes widen in surprise. “He did?”

“He seemed… calmer when I told him I would.”

“He knows we’d take care of each other up here.”

“We would.” Castiel’s eyes lock with his. The words Dean had whispered to him running through his brain like a song on endless repeat. “Dean…” His eyes plead with Dean to understand. To be brave enough to – to be the first one to say it this time.

After remaining silent in a few moments of contemplation, Dean beckons him over by crooking two fingers. Castiel takes a few steps closer, letting his knees bump the edge of the bed.

Rolling his eyes, Dean crocks his fingers again. “I don’t bite Cass.”

He narrows his eyes warily. “You bit me once before Dean. Remember?”

Dean scoffs, “Pfft!” he waves a dismissive hand. “That’s a _love bite_ Cass!”

“A love bite?” he echoes.

Shifting to the right, Dean pats the newly created space. “Come lay down with me.”

“U-uh okay.” With jerky motions, Castiel manoeuvres himself into the bed, almost having a heart attack when his legs brush Dean’s.

“I love you.” Dean says, once he’s all settled in. “I always have. I’m sorry I never said it.”

A relieved smiles floats onto Castiel’s face. “Dean… I love you too.”

They stare at each other a long time. Both content with the silence blanketing them. It’s not a tense silence. But a comfortable one. One where everything is right in the world.

Castiel is bursting with the happiness that can only come with Dean’s love.

“Is this the part where we kiss?” Dean asks after some time passes.

“You want to kiss me?”

Dean shrugs. “Well… not really.” He admits. Castiel’s heart falls.

Dean elbows him gently. “It’s more like I need to kiss you or I’ll die.”

The first touch of their lips is ecstatic. It’s the feeling Castiel once got upon entering the pearly white gates of heaven. It feels perfect, it feels like home.

Dean pulls away from him, the tips of his mouth curved in a dazed smile.

“Do you want to be the little spoon.”

Castiel blushes. “Right now, I just want to look at you.”

“Okay.” Dean whispers.

Castiel sleeps.

It’s more peaceful than he ever slept before. Like slowly drifting off into another world. His sleep was so deep, in fact, that not even the blaring, heavenly, alarms signifying an incursion could not break him out of it. Not even Dean’s screams and tugs could snap him out of it.

Because the truth is… Castiel isn’t asleep.

He’s in the Empty.

Now, the only thing he can dream is **black**


	2. The Death of a Bachelor

Dean stands at the edge of the small hole.

Sam and Castiel stand around him silently, both staring at him like he’s gone mad.

“I’d like to welcome you all here today to mourn the passing of a good friend.” His voice is solemn, the slight waver indicates that something is actually wrong – that Dean isn’t just playing a prank on them.

“He’s stuck with me for years. Years I tell you.” Dean exhales, wiping a hand across his brow. Castiel glances at Sam to see if he has any inkling of what is happening. The twist in Sam’s lips give him his answer.

Why would Dean call them here? Today? To stand near a shallow grave?

The set-up is a funeral. Not a hunter’s funeral but a more traditional one. But, the thing is, there’s no body to be seen. And in Castiel’s knowledge, for a funeral, you need a corpse. They’re all wearing tuxes for some reason, too. Dean forced them all into the tight outfits, calling it ‘necessary.’

“He was my companion. My will to go on.” He pauses. “A mask. Protecting me from the outside world and from the things I didn’t want to feel.”

Sam raises his hand half-way.

“What?” Dean seems annoyed.

“Are you talking about Cass?”

“No. Sam!” Dean rolls his eyes. “How can we have a funeral for Cass if he’s standing right there.”

Dean glances pointedly at him and he feels obligated to respond: “Hello, Dean.”

“Right.” Dean smiles slightly; amused. “Where was I before I was so rudely interrupted?”

“The things you didn’t want to feel.” Castiel supplies.

“Ah, yes.” Dean exhales. “You’ve been a great companion, but now, I fear, it’s time to let you go. Maybe experience some of those feelings without you there to mute them. This is sad… and it is hard… but I have to do this… for me.”

Castiel frowns. Had Dean gone insane from the stress? He hopes that he still has enough grace to save him.

“Here lies, Dean – The Bachelor, nineteen seventy nine to twenty twenty.”

Sam clenches his jaw and fists his hands together. “ _This_ is why you brought us here. Unbelievable. We have better things to do than to sit around playing games.”

Dean just smiles slightly… nervously, if Castiel is gauging it correctly. “Just wait.”

“Bachelor Dean is dead?” Castiel says slowly. His heart sinks as he realises what Dean is trying to tell them. “You’re in love. You want to settle down.”

Dean shurgs. “Whadda ya say Cass.”

“I’m happy for you Dean.”

“Who is she Dean?” Sam seems genuinely shocked. “I’m guessing it’s someone we know. But I have no clue. Just like I still have no clue as to why you would need to set-up a funeral to tell us this.”

Castiel brushes his arms past his sleeve. This is his worst nightmare. Dean is leaving. And he’s not leaving out of anger or stubbornness… he’s leaving because he found someone he can love better than them. Than Castiel.

“Sammy.” Dean grins widely. “You know.” He winks.

Sam frowns, shaking his head. “I definitely don’t Dean.”

“Huh.” Dean scratches his head. “I really have to spell it out for you guys?”

“Please.” Sam quips.

“You too Cass?” Dean asks.

He simply nods, not trusting himself not to burst into tears.

Dean stares down at the grave in disbelief. “I can’t believe you two idiots.”

The silence that follows is silent.

“I’ll give you a hint.” Dean chirps, brightly. “You got one major thing about them wrong.”

“Um…” Sam taps his chin in thought. “Is it _not_ someone we know.”

“Okay. Try this one: their name is seven letters long.”

It can’t be Cassie… or Lisa. Who do they even know who has a name that long? Castiel is just about ready to jump into the grave any bury himself alive. He doesn’t _want_ to stand here and play ‘Guess Who’ with Dean. He doesn’t want to picture the man he’s in love with someone else. He doesn’t want to have to… but he has no other choice. If he leaves now, Dean will know, and he’ll lose Dean’s friendship permanently.

“They have black hair.”

At this point, Dean just sounds frustrated and disappointed.

“Anything?” he asks. “Any bells ringing?”

“They dress pretty shitty.” Dean blurts.

“We’ve known each other for over a decade.” He throws his head back. “Oh you people! I might as well just draw you a picture.”

“That’d be nice.” Sam mutters. “So, it’s someone we know, who has seven letters in her name, has black hair and dresses like crap…” he sighs, “Cass, you’ve been quiet… you got any guesses?”

Castiel glances at Sam, then shakes his head.

“One last hint.” Sam begs, using the ‘puppy dog eyes’ as Dean refers to them.

“Fine.” Dean appeases, “This person... wears… a trench-coat.”

Castiel frowns and glances down.

“They only person who wears a trench-coat is Ca-” Sam breaks off, realisation crashing over him, his eyes dart to Castiel who just stands there in a stunned silence.

Snapping out of his daze, he finds Dean looking at him expectantly. It’s too much happening all at once. Dean loves him…

“You love me.” he breathes.

Dean huffs. “Took you long enough to figure it out.”

“I love you too.”

Castiel takes a step forward, wanting to pull Dean close – to hug him or to taste his lips, for the very first time – when he feels the tugging on his grace.

In his confusion, he stumbles, falling directly into the grave that Dean dug.

He never gets up. He can’t, because Castiel is no longer there. His body is – Dean buried it there while he searches for a cure.

But Castiel?

> All that waits for him is:

* * *


	3. The Unknown

What happens when a demon’s worst nightmare walks into a bar?

Well, his worst nightmare isn’t walking into the bar. That would be the Winchesters.

Instead… nope, it’s still pretty bad. A Winchester and his angel.

He slinks further into his seat to escape their attention.

They seem unconcerned though, as Dean slips into the booth and Castiel into the seat opposite him.

Dean ogles the waitress in typical Winchester fashion and orders burgers, pie and beer.

Where is the other one? Sam? He must be close by. Their cursed Impala is parked out front; a clear ‘all creatures steer clear of the area.’

He can’t seem to spot any weapons on them, other than the usual angel blade and pistol. So they aren’t on a hunt. It’s more likely that he can float by them or maybe even… make a killing off of them? Is it too much to hope? He shifts slightly in his seat, eyeing them both intently.

If he didn’t know better he’d say that they’re on a date.

But that would be ridiculous.

Or it could be the biggest story to ever hit hell.

Being a demon journalist is hard work. The pickings are slim. The stories are overdone. And it’s always hard to get the most juicy story because… well, you usually end up impaled. Or exorcized. He isn’t quite sure which is worse.

There had been speculation right from the start about those two.

An angel going to hell? Unheard of. A soul being touched by angel grace… and surviving? Outlandish.

For almost a year they both had been some sort of a landmark – an attraction. Creatures bet on whether or not it was really true. Even himself, had gotten a sweet cut when it was time to collect.

A chemistry like that is hard to misinterpret.

For ages the supernatural world tailed them, hoping for some sort of concrete evidence. Some way to tell that they were really in love. But they were always so professional in public. If only there were some way to find their secret hideout. He’s sure that the older Winchester would soften like butter in a safe space.

And Castiel. His intentions had always been crystal clear. To Heaven and Hell and all in between. It’s glaringly loud to anyone in their presence for more than five seconds. Everyone assumes that Dean doesn’t know and they pity the poor innocent Castiel who fell for a depraved, sex-fuelled human.

But that isn’t true.

He can’t remember the last time he heard to Dean taking anyone home. Sure, he still flirts relentlessly, but he doesn’t make it past groping in an alley.

There’s only one possible reason for that.

As their evening progresses, he’s even more convinced that they’re on a date. The lingering touches and the stares that last even longer than usual. The pie they share is a flashing neon sign. They’re in love. They’re dating.

This is the scoop of a lifetime.

To have all the rumours finally put to rest.

He just wishes they would stop dancing around each other and kiss. No one would be in doubt after that.

They make him wait till they think they’re alone in the parking lot.

Dean slams Castiel against his precious Impala and tugs Castiel’s tie until their lips are pressed together tightly.

They separate slowly, as though they can’t survive another moment without clinging desperately to each other.

Shocking. He rolls his eyes.

And in an instant….

Castiel is gone.

He gasps and steps back into the shadows, his guard immediately going up.

Had Castiel sensed him and flown over to dispatch of him? Ugh. Right when he caught onto the story of the century.

“Cass?” The panic in Dean’s voice snaps him out of his terror. “Cass? Where’d you go? This isn’t funny.”

Dean freezes, his eyes darting to the alley.

Someone better call the presses because he found a story better than his own. The angels fell… they don’t have their wings. And unless both him and Dean hallucinated the entire evening; Castiel had vanished. Taken by something unknown; not even a demon could see it.

Now that… is the story of a lifetime.

Not that he would get to write it. His own story is nearing the final lines.

They portray Death as a man in black robes, carrying a scythe. But in his reality, Death is Dean Winchester; wearing flannel and carrying an angel blade.


	4. Switcheroo Part I

Gasping, Castiel presses himself further into the wall as Sam is launched through the roof at break neck speed. Dean waits a second before charging out, blasting Chuck from behind. Where he was caught off guard last time, he is more prepared for Michael’s power. Chuck laughs but remains immobile. Dean halts, twitching. His face contorts painfully and he grasps his skull.

“Did you think that my perfect child would ever betray me?” Chuck chuckles, “Would you ever do that to your father… before Castiel feel in love with you, that is?”

Dean’s eyes widen, flashing over to him.

Castiel launches himself at Chuck, wanting to distract him from Dean, who has his eyes squeezed shut and seems to be grappling for control with Michael. The look in Dean’s eyes makes Castiel want to deny everything… but now isn’t the time. They’re all having their asses handed to them.

Once again, Castiel finds himself helplessly immobilised… watching as Chuck stalks over to Dean. “Did you and Sam really think to beat me with souls… souls that _I_ created?” he laughs, “You should have just left me alone.” He taunts, “Oh, Cass and I were chatting before you so rudely interrupted. And I was wondering… why are you so forgiving? Do you even _know_ how many times I’ve had to course correct because you just couldn’t kill him?” he points to Castiel accusingly.

Chuck doesn’t get to answer as Sam comes crashing in, knocking Chuck into the floor.

Dean scrambles to his feet. “We need back up. Michael is whipping up a storm and I can barely control him.” His voice is frantic and Castiel feels himself shudder as Dean reveals the archangel blade. “We need Billie. The Empty. This is the only way I can contact them.”

No. No. It can’t end like this. “Dean wait!” he makes a grab for the blade.

“I’m sorry Cass.” Dean gestures to Sam. “Things aren’t looking good. And – and we all know where Winchester’s go when they die.”

‘ _And then, when you finally give yourself permission to be happy and let the sun shine on your face, that's when I'll come._

_That's when I'll come to drag you to nothing.’_

“No.” Castiel says firmly. “I have another way.”

Dean huffs in exasperation. “Why didn’t you say anything Cass?”

He doesn’t reply. Squaring his shoulders he pins Dean to the wall behind them.

“Tell me that you love me.”

Dean blinks in confusion. “We don’t have time for this.”

Castiel slams him back into place. “Tell me that you love me!”

“You know I do.”

“Say it.”

“I _do_ love you Castiel.”

Castiel let’s himself forget where they are. That Dean’s words aren’t really real.

Then he kisses Dean, letting their lips move together in a way he’d never thought he’d get to experience. In a way that makes him really forget.

_‘That’s when I’ll come…’_

Dean stares at him wide eyed, with flushed lips and a slack jaw. The sounds of the battle have ceased, leaving them all in deadly silence.

“Castiel.” The voice is ethereal… but entirely recognisable to him.

“Shadow.” He says, letting his eyes flit across to Chuck and Sam.

“You’ve come for me?”

“No.”

Castiel draws a surprised breath. His eyes darting around, distraught. “Then who?”

His eyes land on something just behind Castiel. “Dean.” Castiel moves to block him immediately.

“Excuse me!” Chuck snaps, gesturing to Sam. “We’re in the middle of something. Why don’t you just go back to sleep?”

The Shadow turns to look at Chuck, who stiffens with the attention. He smiles and wordlessly turns back to Castiel.

Castiel's arm darts out, but the only thing he latches onto is air.

Because Dean is gone.


	5. I Just Called To Say I Love You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE:
> 
> This is a more depressing version of the story  
> I Just Called To Say I Love You
> 
> If you want something happier, feel free to check it out.

“Dean… can we talk?” he sees Dean freeze abruptly.

“Yeah.” But it sounds as good as a no.

He knows Dean’s emotions must be raw after what he went through in Purgatory, but in truth, Castiel is on edge too. Hearing Dean run through the forest infested with monsters in tears over him hadn’t been a walk in the park.

Sam left, just a few minutes ago. Shocked out of his wits that Dean hadn’t ripped into him for messing up their plan. Even Castiel had been surprised at that; he’d been angry too. Dean had been angry as well, he could feel it rolling off his skin.

He knows he only held back because of what he’d said earlier. To show Castiel that he was trying – that he could stop his anger. Possibly to let him know that things would be different this time around… if he stayed.

And Castiel _is_ going to stay.

There’s never been a doubt about that.

Though he left, he always came right back around to the one thing that made him feel safe. Most people presume that thing is the Winchesters, or the bunker perhaps. But in actuality, it’s been Dean’s soul. Warm, undulating and inviting, but it could turn choppy in an instant.

There’s one thing that Castiel had been dying to know. There’d never been an opportunity for him to ask without upsetting Dean. But now, since they’ve already started hashing out their emotions, he doesn’t see any harm.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

Confusion shows on Dean’s face.

Initially, he thought that he just wasn’t important enough to warrant a call. That Dean was only going to the people he loves. But today had shown him that Dean loves him too. He hadn’t said the words explicitly, but it was impossible to miss the implication, even though Dean’s panic.

“What do you mean?” Dean asks. “When you left? He shrugs, looking down into his glass. “I knew Sam was trying to get in touch with you. But you didn’t answer him, so I figured you definitely wouldn’t answer me after what I said.”

He shifts his glass slightly, to clink against Dean’s. “I always come when you call.”

A sigh leaves Dean’s lips. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry Dean.” He assures, “But that wasn’t what I was talking about.”

“Oh?”

“With Michael.” He sees Dean’s face change. “And the Ma’lak box.” His voice drops as the bad memory resurfaces. The call from Sam, frantically explaining that something was wrong… that he was headed to Mary’s to figure it out. He’d begged him to head back to the bunker to start working out what was wrong with Dean. He remembers the way Sam had sat him down and explained to him gently what Dean wanted to do. The fate he wanted to resign himself to. Castiel had demanded that he talk to Dean, but Sam insisted that he could handle it.

And Castiel believed him. He followed his council right up until he couldn’t take it anymore. He donned the doctor’s outfit and hightailed it to Donatello’s side. Seeing Dean had been a slap in the face. He hadn’t even looked happy to see him. And he hadn’t even bothered to call to tell him goodbye.

“You never called me. Sam got a goodbye. Donna. You spent time with Mary.” He tries and fails to keep the bitterness and jealousy out of his voice.

Dean clears his throat awkwardly. “I was going to call you.”

“When?”

“I was.”

“Really?” he demands. “And what were you going to say?”

“I was going to call you.” he insists. “When I was sure that I was so far away, you couldn’t catch me in time.”

“You would have told me?” his voice is hushed now because Dean hadn’t told anyone.

“No.” Dean laughs. “No way I would have told you. But… you would have known.” Dean looks at him then. “You would have insisted that I stay put so you could come find me. And… I might have listened. Then everything would be screwed. Cass there’s two people who could have convinced me to stay. You and Sam. But I knew Sam wouldn’t have figured it out. But I know you. And you know me. After one sentence I’d be toast.”

“Dean…” he swallows. “What would you have said.”

Dean stands suddenly. “Honestly, Cass. I was never going to call you.”

He finds himself at a loss for words. “But you just said.”

“I know.” Dean says gently. “But I wasn’t going to call you. I was going to pray.”

“Oh.”

He looks up at Dean as his eyes flip shut. “Cass…”

His heart thunders in his chest. “I just called to say… I love you.”

No.

Something occurs to him quite suddenly then. Something that before this moment, he’d completely forgotten.

But something that hadn’t forgotten him.

The Empty.


	6. It Ain't Over Till The Fat Lady Sings

Dean breathes out a sigh as the dust settles. His eyes drift across the room in disbelief.

They won.

And no one is dead or dying.

Amara took one for the team and catapulted herself and Chuck into oblivion. At least she’ll get that brother sister bonding that she’s always wanted.

He claps Sam on the shoulder and laughs in disbelief. Could it be that easy. Not two days ago he and Cass were bungling through Purgatory, looking for blossoms that grew out of dead and decaying Leviathan.

Cass.

His happy expression cracks as he spots Cass lying immobile in the corner. Amara had tossed him to protect him from Chuck, who seemed intent on dragging him into prison with him. Dean had just expected him to be okay. He’d completely forgotten that his powers were failing and that he was just as frail as a human now.

“Cass?” he reaches forward with trembling hands to shake his shoulders.

Seeing Cass just lying here had dunked his happiness in cold water. Now his body is trembling from the shock and the cold.

“Buddy?” he shakes him again.

Flipping him over only makes Dean’s heart stutter. It’s easy to say that he just passed out. But it’s not so easy to actually believe it when Dean has seen this expression on Cass’ face before. When he lay in the mud, the silhouette of his wings seared into the ground… his face had looked like this too.

Still.

Lifeless.

Dean hadn’t dared crack his eyelids open. He could bare to see those once vibrant blue eyes, turn dull and inert.

He can feel Sam hovering over his shoulder. Holding out as much hope as Dean does for Cass to be okay.

Common sense kicks in and he presses his ear to Cass chest. His heartbeat thunders loud and strong in Dean’s ears.

“He’s okay.” Dean says glancing over to Sam.

“Let’s get him out of here.” Sam says, crouching to grab Cass’ legs.

A kick to the nose sends him reeling back.

Dean reaches out quickly, grabbing Cass’ shoulders to prevent him from jolting up too quickly. “Hey man.” Cass’ eyes gradually focus on his. “It’s okay. We won.”

Cass’ eyes search his face for any signs of deceit. “We won.”

Dean can’t help what he does next. It’s a matter of reflex for him… relief. He presses a kiss to Cass forehead.

The noise Sam makes doesn’t even deter him as he wraps his arms around Cass.

“And now that… no one is controlling us.” He breathes. “I think it’s time to address the elephant in the room.”

Cass is silent for a long time. Dean can see the thousands of thoughts running through his head. They’re the exact thoughts Dean has right now.

Is this what I think it is? Can we really do this? Will we work? What if he doesn’t feel the same way?

And the tumultuous emotions that follow: fear, hope, anxiety, love and others that Dean doesn’t even know the words for.

“I want to talk about the elephant.” Cass says in a soft voice.

“Good.” Dean says, his voice overly chipper. “Then we can listen to some Taylor Swift and Lizzo.”

Cass cracks a smile at that. “Now, the elephant…”

“I’m a sort of elephant aren’t I?” Sam singsongs. “Let’s talk about me!”

Dean scowls at him. “Really Sammy? You think now is the time?”

Sam’s neck bends at an unnatural angle and he smirks at Dean and Castiel.

“I’m the only elephant in the room that you need to talk about. Right Castiel?” Sam says, creeping closer. “Remember… I know what you hate, I know who you love, what you fear. All your little feelings.”

“That isn’t Sam.” Castiel snarls, using what’s left of his strength to drag Dean back.

“But… and most important, I think… I know what you’ve forgotten.”

Dean blinks in confusion.

“My deal.” Cass’ voice is laced with defeat. Dean doesn’t have the mental fortitude to even act surprised. Cass turns to look at Dean, his expression pained. “To save Jack… I made a deal. He said he’d come for me when I allowed myself to be happy.”

Dean swallows. He did this. If he had just waited until Cass came back to his senses, maybe he would have stopped him.

“It’s okay. I love you.” Dean’s voice trembles as he forces the words out.

“I love you too.”

“I’ll find you.” Dean promises, his hand latching onto Cass’ viciously.

“It’s okay if you don’t.” Cass says gently. “You can’t save everyone my love, though you try.”

Then Cass is gone

Dean’s hand closes around itself and he hears Sam drop onto his knees from the exertion of housing a cosmic entity.

“What’s going on?” Sam demands.

“The Empty has Cass.” He says, picking himself up off the ground. “Come on Sam… it ain't over till the fat lady sings”

And Dean would be damned if he let this end without either Lizzo or an elephant singing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that Jack is really the one who's going to kill Chuck, but I kind of like this one with him and Amara even though I don't think it's happening.
> 
> P.S if you guys have any ideas, feel free to send them to me at sandeancastiel@gmail.com


	7. Blue Eyes Crying In The Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just realised that this work can also be filed under sad and morbidly depressing.

Cass taking the mark had been logical at the time. Dean couldn’t do it. Sam wasn’t there.

Chuck is gone and Dean feels more on edge than ever.

He watches Cass like a hawk. Not because he doesn’t trust him, but because he knows how hard it is. He wants Cass to talk to him… let it out in the ways Dean never had… but he doesn’t know how to approach him.

As the days pass, they eat together, they watch movies together and they pretend everything is fine. But every night, exactly at midnight, he watches as Cass sneaks out of the bunker only to return two hours later. His clothes would be clean of blood. Too clean in fact. Most times they looked freshly pressed and had the distinct fresh scent of washing liquid.

He never calls him out on it.

He doesn’t want to know.

It breaks his heart even as it brings out his own need to kill.

The mark is slowly turning his best friend into a monster. And Dean is steadfastly ignoring the signs. For once, Sam seems to be following his lead, if only not to creat new problems for them to solve.

But one day Dean can’t take it anymore. He waits for Cass to sneak out before following him in the Impala.

Cass must have spotted him because he suddenly veers off onto a barely there road leading into a heavily thicketed area.

Dean pulls off just before the road, not wanting to needlessly get mud on Baby.

The ground squelches against his shoes as he follows Cass into the darkness.

The path is covered in wood splinters and flakes of wood. It looks like a thousand woodpeckers had taken to the trees.

Swallowing, he sidesteps a wider piece of debris.

Cass is taking his anger out on the trees. That’s something. He’s still in control. Dean can do this.

Clanging echoes through the trees, letting him know he’s getting closer.

When he clears the treeline, and steps into a small clearing, he almost wishes he hadn’t.

Cass is there. And he _isn’t_ taking his anger out on the trees.

Dean recognises the mangled shape taking form before him. At his lowest, he’d made this too.

Only, his intention had been to rot at the bottom of the ocean with Michael forever.

The Ma’lak Box stands tall, casting an imposing shadow on everything around it.

Cass workspace is well lit, so his eyes flit to Dean as soon as he arrives. They sweep downwards soon after, his hand working at smoothening out a plant of wood.

“Cass.” Dean says, stepping towards him carefully.

“Hello Dean.” It’s their usual greeting, but it sounds hollow. A cheap imitation.

“Cass… you don’t have to.” He whispers. “you can control this. You _are_ controlling this.”

Cass lifts his gaze. They stare at each other and Dean steadfastly holds his stare, wanting to convey as much understanding and comfort in his gaze as possible.

He remembers when it was him in this position. That Cass had been there for him, even when he didn’t want him to be. It’s what friends are for.

Dean squares his shoulders; he’s not giving up without a fight.

“You have to kill me before you get into that box.” He growls.

Cass purses his lips. “That’s why I’m doing this Dean.”

He scoffs. “You won’t kill me jackass.”

“I will.” He says sombrely.

“No.”

“Who do I spend the most time with Dean?” Cass snaps.

He frowns. “Me. Of course.”

“You. Dean. You.” he takes a step forward before looking around uneasily and taking two backwards.

“I don’t get it man.” He says. He wants to step closer, but he doesn’t want to chase Cass away. They’re finally talking about this. This is the most words he’s said about his feelings and the impact of the mark.

“Me being around you so often heightens your chances of being killed.” He whispers. “Dean, I could kill you.”

“I wouldn’t let you.”

Cass shakes his head slowly. “You know that just not true.”

“Yes it is.” He assures. “I’ve known danger and death since I was four. I can tell when my best friend is thinking about killing me.”

It’s bullshit and he knows it. He can he so blinded by people and what he thinks happened with them. Just look at what happened with Lee.

Storming up to him, Cass slams him back onto his work table.

“Just let me do this.”

“No!” he snaps. “You won’t hurt me. And- and if you do… I _will_ stop you.”

Cass’ eyes soften and Dean is just about to get off his back when he feels something silver press against his heart. The softness in Cass’ eyes are chased away by pure rage. His eyes gleam in a mystical silver blue colour. His grip on Dean’s arm is no longer slack. It’s tight to the point of bruising.

Shit.

Dean tenses. He forgot that he wasn’t supposed to provoke or anger Cass for any reason. Now he’s really steaming.

Something cold presses tightly to his chest, cutting through the material of his jacket and shirt and piercing the skin just over his heart.

Cass snarls at him, but it’s almost filled with glee.

“Cass?” Real fear begins seeping in.

Wordlessly, Cass twists the knife, sending streams of blood down his chest.

The weight of his own angel blade is heavy against his left hand. It’s right there. Reachable.

But doesn’t even bother.

All of a sudden the weight over him vanishes, along with the wound on his chest. Panting, he stares up at Cass in shock.

“You did that on purpose.” Dean breathes in realisation.

Cass just blinks at him sadly, his theory having been proven.

“I know where you keep your angel blade Dean.” Is all he says. “I need you to lock me in.”

His bones ache and chills run through his skin. Dean almost wishes he could cry but the panic blocks any of other emotions.

Almost as though in sync with his emotions, the sky opens up. Rain pours all around then, drenching them. Drenching the work bench. The Ma’lak box.

“C-ass.” His voice cracks on the tail end.

Cass whorls around, his hands clenched tightly at his side. His blue eyes shimmer with tears. His cheeks are wet. With rain water or fallen tears, Dean isn’t sure.

“We can figure this out.” He says jumping forward to latch onto his sleeve.

Cass reaches forward and presses a hand over the one clutching his sleeve.

“I just want one thing before I go.”

“No.” Dean exhales, his breath coming out in shaky pants. “You don’t get to ask for something when you’re the one who’s doing this to me!”

“Dean.”

“What is it?” he exhales in defeat. If Cass is really intent on doing this… Dean can’t deny him his last wish.

“Dance with me.” All of a sudden, the light filters back into Cass’ eyes. Dean would almost swear they’re both in a ball room, rather than standing in the mud and rain.

They start out okay; Dean’s hand is around Cass waist and Cass’ are around his neck, but somewhere along the way they move closer. They’re still dancing to their very own song, oblivious to the world around them. They no longer hold themselves apart. Their formal positioning has deteriorated to them basically hugging each other and stepping from side to side.

Dean’s hands are locked around Cass, as though hoping to hold him back my sheer force.

The both feel it when their internal song ends. Cass smiles softly at him and steps away.

“Goodbye Dean.”

Dean just blinks, pressing a hand to his mouth. “I love you, you know?” he blurts.

It’s terribly fair. To do this now of all times.

“I – I didn’t know.”

“I know. That’s because I’m a jackass.”

“Dean.” He pauses, his hand on the edge of the box. “There’s something you can do… to save me.”

“What?” he breathes.

“You can send me to the empty.”

“What?”

“I made a deal with the Empty. That it would come for me when I let myself be happy.”

He doesn’t even have the words to berate him. “How is that better?” is what he manages.

“The Mark won’t drive me crazy.” He says softly.

“And – what’s this thing. That can make you so happy.”

“You know.” He says with a half-smile.

And Dean does know. He always presumed that Cass knew he loved him; but he always knew, that without a shadow of a doubt, that Cass loved him back.

“I love you.” he says firmly. Then presses a kiss to Cass’ lips. It’s nothing like he’s ever imagined. It’s horrible. He can’t bear to enjoy a second of it. His skin prickles and his tongue tastes like acid. He wants to rip himself away.

But he can’t.

Because this is the lesser of two evils. He won’t let Cass just be sent away to be tortured in solitude for eternity. Nothingness is better.

But what about the Mark?

Cass assures him that all it needs is a small part of his grace and a vessel to house it.

Dean can tell the moment the Empty takes Cass. He doesn’t spare a moment to grieve, he slams the husk of his best friend into the box, sealing it forever more.

Then he sits in the mud and sobs. Last time Cass had died, his wings left scorch marks in the dirt, this time, he left his corpse in a Ma’lak box, in the mud.

But he can deal with that later.

Right now, the only thing on Dean’s mind are … blue eyes crying in the rain.


	8. Crimson And Clover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE:
> 
> This is a more depressing version of the story  
> Dancing's Not A Crime
> 
> If you want something happier, feel free to check it out.

Dean presses his eyes together.

It’s the night before the final battle. Or what he hopes will be the final battle. Dean doesn’t know how much longer he can carry on like this.

No sleep.

No will.

He’s just empty inside and has been for so long.

He can’t think of one thing in this world that he really truly wants for himself.

Well…

Nothing attainable anyway.

The only time he remembers feeling longing was at Garth’s house. He remembers the laughing gas and how it made him hallucinate. But the thing is, he’d had that exact dream before.

Dancing.

There had always been the urge.

Sometimes though, certain things made it stronger.

The laughing gas had been one.

The cursed ballet shoes had been another. Sam had looked at him funny for some time after that.

Winchesters don’t dance. John had engraved that into his mind at an early age. _Real men don’t dance like that._

But would it matter?

If it really were his last night on this earth.

He knows what waits for him in The Empty.

An eternity of nothing.

So if he has the chance to have _something_ before his curtains are closed, then damn it all to hell.

There had been another thing that made the urge unbearably strong: when Garth and Betty were dancing. In their house, surrounded by three beautiful children. They were stronger together. A unit.

That’s what Dean wants.

That’s what Dean will never have.

But his mind hadn’t stopped him from thinking of him immediately.

His win.

His everything.

 _“Cass.”_ He says, _“I need you.”_

The prayer flows off his lips easily, the emotion itself is familiar, but the words on his tongue, not so much.

Countless times, those words had been on the tip of his tongue. But something always held them back. Now there’s nothing left for him to be scared of. Nothing left for him in this world at all.

He just hopes that Cass will listen.

It’s not fair to expect him at Dean’s beck and call, especially in the eleventh hour when Cass has his own things to do and his own emotions of stow before the big fight.

Whether or not Cass shares his feelings is regardless.

Dean knows…

He knows that if he asks, Cass won’t say no to him.

Maybe that’s why he had never asked. He never wanted that moment to feel cheap and fabricated. But now? Now, Dean will settle for anything at all, because whatever he has is likely to disappear in the blink of an eye if anything goes wrong.

An almost indiscernible knock breaks him out of his musings.

He feels the familiar pull of their bond before he even open the door.

“Cass.” He breathes. “You came.”

The angel seems amused by this. “You know I always come when you call, Dean.” He says simply. “That will never change.”

“Last night on earth.” He says weakly.

Cass chuckles nonetheless.

“Your best line.” He muses.

“Best line for my best man, Cass.”

Cass’ eyes snap up to his immediately. “Oh.”

Dean’s mirth dies down a little. “You don’t have to do anything.” He assures. “If you leave right now, I promise, you and I will still be good.”

“I know.” Cass says. “But I’ll come with you. Wherever you go.”

Their eyes connect and Dean sees the sincerity in them. The love and unity that he always feels in Cass’ presence, flowing through their connected eyes.

“Tell me what you need Dean.”

Dean licks his lips and turns, blowing the dust off of an old record player.

“Dean wait!” Cass’ voice comes out in a rush, halting Dean’s hand. The panic in his friend’s voice is palpable. “I promised I wouldn’t leave again.” Cass says, his voice shaking.

Dean swallows, fisting his hand together to stop them from shaking. “You don’t have to do this.” He assures.

“But I want to.” Cass admits. “You don’t know how much I want this Dean. You.” Cass’ voice is wrecked, his expression pained as though the conversation is physically killing him.

“Then what’s wrong.”

Blue eyes flash to his, filled with tears, regret and love. “The Shadow.”

The cosmic entity Cass had annoyed into sending him back.

“He has something on you.” Dean realises pressing his lips together.

“I made a deal.”

Dean feels as though he was just dropped from a building.

“When I let myself be happy… that’s when he’ll come for me.” Cass whispers brokenly. “And you make me happy Dean. You make me so happy.”

Cass’ head is on his chest in an instant, sobs shaking his shoulders. How long had he kept this locked up? Weighing down on him.

“I’m sorry.” Dean whispers, pressing his lips to Cass’ hair.

“We’ll figure this out.” Dean promises.

“No.” Cass states firmly. “We know that this is the last chance you might have.”

“No way.” He insists, “You’ll die!”

“You could die tomorrow.” Cass rebukes.

“That’s not a good enough reason.”

“It is for me.” Cass says softly. “If I have to die. I’d pick your arms any day Dean.”

Silence falls between them. Dean can’t do this. Not now.

“Cass.”

“No.” Cass shushes him immediately. “This is what I want Dean. I’m doing this, not you.”

With that, he walks over to the record player, his hand turning over the track that Dean had selected.

‘Crimson and Clover’

When Cass turns, his smile is bright and true. “May I have this dance, Mr Winchester?” he asks, extending his hand.

“You may.” Dean says, choked.

Not wanting their dance to be overshadowed by despair, Dean does what he does best.

He pushes it all back, focusing on the here and now. Focusing on Cass.

Their bodies pressed flush together, their hands wandering. Their lips, pressing together feverishly.

Dean focuses on the here and now, until he finds the weight in his hand gone. Until he feels the cold spot on his shoulder, from where Cass’ head was.

Then, Dean still focuses on the here and now.

Cass is gone.

But Dean pushes it back.

He heads out the next day with the intention to win.

And he does.

But Dean Winchester never comes back to the bunker.

He manages to find his way to Castiel after all, though neither of them would ever know it.


	9. ♫ If You’re Happy And You Know It Clap Your Hands ♫

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you'd prefer reading the (I want to say happier but it's not) less depressing version you can find it here:
> 
> [♫ If You’re Happy And You Know It Clap Your Hands ♫](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24048340)

“We did it Cass.”

The smile that breaks out on Dean’s face is nothing short of age-lifting. His face is open, his eyes shine bright, thinking of all the possibilities. His body, where just a few days ago was weighed down by fear and hatred now soars in response to all the new possibilities that have opened up. His smile is bright, his soul fluttering in delight. Castiel loves bearing witness to this.

Castiel always knew that Dean’s soul could look like this.

It just needed the right catalyst.

This is the ending they craved.

This is the ending they never thought would come to pass.

This isn’t an ending at all… it’s a beginning. For the Winchesters, for Castiel and Jack, for the world that they freed from the tyrant fanboy.

Castiel feels the euphoria of their win too, as he looks to Dean and Sam and Jack.

Sam embraces Dean with a force that almost topples them both over. It’s rare that they get such a big win. Such a _final_ win without someone dying. But it’s over.

And they can be happy.

Jack crushes him to his chest, he can feels his child’s smile on his shoulder, the relief he feels as he sags into Castiel. This had been especially taxing for Jack. He suspects once the euphoria and adrenaline run out, Jack will crash.

And he can finally do so in peace. There will be no new monster. There will be no new threat. There will be no more hurt and despair for the Winchesters.

…

Castiel sips his drink as Dean plonks next to him. His own glass is filled to the brim, though, not with whiskey. He’s trying some of Sam’s homemade pineapple juice. At first, he insisted that the possibility of boiling the skin sounded atrocious. But Sam did it anyway and added some sugar and spice.

Turns out the end result is delicious. Even Castiel enjoys it.

“Man. We need to plant a pineapple bush.”

“Tree.” Corrects Castiel with a grin.

“Pineapples grown on trees?” Dean wonders. “You’ve got to be shittin’ me.”

“That would be difficult to accomplish, given your size and that of my sphincter – and my mouth.” He observes.

Dean gags violently, spewing juice all over Castiel and his coat. Castiel pats him on the back. He supposes that was another human saying that he failed to grasp.

Dean comes down from his choking fit with a hoarse laugh. He grins brightly at Castiel. “I can always count on you to make me laugh – and almost kill me in a humiliating way.”

He scoffs at Dean’s expression. “What can I say? You’ve given me my true calling in life.”

“So…” Dean says, none too casually. “It’s been a while since… you know.”

“Since Chuck.” He supplies. “Since we saved the world.”

“Yeah.” Dean murmurs. “Have you thought about what you’re going to do?”

Castiel feels himself tense. This isn’t Dean asking him to leave is it? His face has almost the same expression as it did the last time. Castiel thought he could stick around… make a life with the brothers and Jack.

“Why?” he asks, clearly guarded.

“Because…” Dean responses, pausing to consider his next words. “Are you going to stay?” he says finally, unable to look directly at Castiel.

“You want me to stay?” His voice has a touch of disbelief.

“Always.” Dean replies sincerely.

“Then I’ll always stay.” Castiel says firmly. If Dean wants him to stay then … there’s really nothing more he can want from life is there?

“Good.” Dean says swiftly, his fingers fidgeting around the rim of his glass. “I uh, now that this is over. Now that we can… retire… have a normal life… I’ve been thinking of starting something… with someone.”

Ah, there it is, the something more he can want from life: Dean Winchester’s love. He knows that he must have it; in a certain capacity. But he wants it to be different. He wants Dean’s love to be of the same calibre as his… come from the same deep seated desire.

“I’m happy for you Dean.” He manages. He’s happy that Dean is happy and he’s sad that it can never be with him.

“No you’re not.” He says with a dry look.

Castiel feels the air shift between them. This is no longer an innocent, friendly discussion between friends. He knows that Dean has known about his unrequited feelings for some time. Out of decency he never mentioned it, but there was no denying that he knew.

“Do you want to meet them?” Dean asks, raising a brow challengingly.

Castiel would rather jump into hell but okay.

“Take me to her. Where is she?” he wonders as Dean stands.

Maybe he can find a way to redeem himself in Dean’s eyes.

“In my room.”

…

Castiel knows Dean’s room well, he passes by every day to see what Dean is doing… often at night, when the older Winchester is fast asleep. But he’s spent time here while Dean was awake too. There were a lot of fun times.

Surveying the room, he finds nothing immediately out of place.

He wonders where Dean’s lady is.

In typical Dean fashion, he saunters up to the closet and rips it open.

Really?

Castiel walks closer anyway, curiosity waring with his jealousy.

He looks inside and finds nothing. Nothing but clothes and the a mirror.

“Do you see them?” Dean questions, eagerly leaning in.

“No.” he says sourly.

Dean rolls his eyes. “Look closer.”

Castiel looks for the hell of it… and… nothing. Big surprise.

“I see nothing but your lumberjack clothes and this infuriating mirror.”

Dean chuckles at his discomfort. “And who’s in the mirror jackass?”

Castiel looks back, just to confirm.

“Me?”

Suddenly Dean is hauling him back by his tie and pressing him into the closet door. He’s positive it’s going to break open any second with the force Dean is using. It’s almost like he’s trying to weld them in place.

“You – you want to start something with me?” he squeaks, still not believing his ears.

“I do dumbass.” Dean replies sweetly.

“Then kiss me.” The words taste foreign on Castiel’s throat.

But they turn sweet as Dean’s lips brush against his, tantalisingly slow. Castiel can’t help the tears that flood his eyes. He presses them shut, not wanting to ruin the moment. If Dean asks, he’ll tell him the truth: that these are happy tears stemming from a decade of never knowing.

This is the ending he craved.

This is the ending he never thought would come to pass.

This isn’t an ending at all… it’s a beginning.

…

After, as they lay in Dean’s bed; the memory foam molding to their skin, as though imprinting the memory as thoroughly as Castiel has in his own mind, Dean nudges his skin. The touch raises all the hairs on Castiel’s hand.

“Are you happy?” Dean asks after a prolonged silence, his voice sounds different than it had been during their time in bed when he moaned Castiel’s name so sweetly and bit his lips to muffle his cries of pleasure.

“I am.” Castiel replies, closing his eyes in bliss.

“Then clap your hands.”

Dean claps.

The world falls from beneath him.

Castiel feels himself falling. The bed beneath him seems to disintegrate… along with the floor and the earth’s outer crust. And he’s tumbling and tumbling… down into the abyss.

Down into The Empty.

Where the sound of the Shadow’s clap seems to echo back, with the sole intent of taunting him.

Singing him a haunting lullaby, in Dean’s voice, wearing Dean’s face, as he drifts into nothing.

“ _If you’re happy and you know it clap your hands!_ ”


	10. Switcheroo Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure to read part I first!

Black. Everything is black, it’s a shiny black and he can feel it sticking to the soles of his shoes, trying to swallow him up like ditch filled with quick sand.

“Hey!” Dean screams into the void.

“Ugh.” A groan from behind has him jumping out of his skin. “You humans… so unnecessarily _loud.”_

“Take my back and I’ll shut up.” Dean says cheekily.

“Castiel summoned me for a reason.”

Dean frowns. “Yeah, what’s up with that? He kisses me and bam! Direct line to the Empty?”

The thing ripples as it laughs which only makes Dean’s stomach churn.

“Something like that.” It says.

“Whatever.” Dean snaps; he can grill Cass’ to his heart’s content later. Or maybe not. The angel’s love confession has his mind in tatters. How could he not have known? How could Cass have kept this from him? He knows he isn’t the most emotional person in the world, but Cass is one of the few people he’d actually hear out.

“You have to do something.” Dean says urgently. “Get Billie and tell her Chuck is whipping up a storm in there. Sam could be dead and her plan to stop Chuck won’t ever happen.”

“You’re right.” It says sourly. “She does need you two gnats.” It sighs exasperatedly. “I’ll be back.”

Dean’s eyes widen. Only two of them? What about Cass? But before he has a chance to say anything the Shadow vanishes.

..

Almost as soon as Dean vanishes, Chuck gets back to pounding Sam. Castiel feels lost… like both brothers are in need of help and he’s utterly useless.

The Shadow hadn’t even stuck around to help them, Castiel thinks bitterly. It just stole the love of his life and vanished.

“Castiel.” His head whips around.

“Billie?”

She glances over to Sam. “Dean sent me.”

Dean’s okay. The realisation halts his trembling and he nods graciously at Billie. Castiel finds himself in a brightly lit room. Sam is at his side, still lying on the ground, groaning in pain.

“Sammy.” Dean is there in an instant. Pressing a hand to Sam’s forehead. The relief of seeing his brother makes him faint. Dean just stares down at his face in shock before slowly turning to Castiel.

He loses his balance when Dean unexpectedly launches himself at him, pitching him back into a shelf. The rattle it makes, echoes loudly.

A hot hand comes to rest on his face as Dean presses their lips together. “I’m so glad you’re okay.” He breathes, desperately against his lips.

“I’m glad _you’re_ okay.” He whispers, staring up at Dean in wonder.

“Are you happy Castiel?” Dean asks, cocking his head.

Castiel begins to nod before he feels himself freeze up. No. No he can’t be happy. Not now.

Dean grins deviously at him, his smile so predatory and sadistic that Castiel immediately knows it isn’t really him.

“Peek-a-boo!” he says, his face rippling to reveal the grotesque countenance of the Shadow.

Castiel tries to step back in horror but there’s nowhere left to go. It fooled him completely. Again.

“I know what you desire Castiel.” It taunts. “I peer into your mind remember. Who knew the knight in shining armour trope was such a turn on for fallen angels.”

“No.” he whispers in horror. “Where’s Dean?”

“Dean will be okay.” The Shadow says.

“Chuck killing you will be the catalyst that drives him to victory.” It says if a mocking voice. “Your death will save him. You should be happy.” It cackles. “Oh wait, you are.”

Castiel remains frozen. Even if he could run, it’s futile… and he could never leave Sam unconscious and alone with this monster.

“Sam here won’t remember a thing and as far as Dean knows, Chuck was the one who blew you to smithereens.”

With a low growl, the Shadow presses a hand to his forehead. “See you soon Castiel.” It hisses as he feels his atoms being slowly pulled away from each other, his body convulsing involuntarily with the excruciating pain that precedes his gruesome death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have one more onshot planned for this work. It's gonna be extra depressing. 
> 
> If anyone has any more ideas feel free to email and I'll write it for you. Even though the work might be listed as complete, if inspiration strikes I may add on additional chapters. ;)
> 
> Look out for a new idea I'm working on. It's similar to this one: all the ways Supernatural can end. It's called Blackout.


	11. Netflix and Kill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically what the title says ToT

Castiel slips into the ‘Dean Cave’ and settles onto the couch. He purposefully left the lights off, hoping to scare the living daylights out of Dean when he joins him for movie night. It’s only fair after Dean unexpectedly smashed an entire pie onto his face and joked about licking it off.

That had been humiliating, though he supposes he’s thankful that the entire pie stuck to his face covered his surely embarrassing expression. Dean had chortled like a mad-man and even Sam had let out a chuckle. Castiel, however, had been enraged.

The desire to get revenge on Dean had been strong. But he refrained because: revenge is a dish best served cold. Plus, Dean had been jumpy around him, almost as though he expected some form of retaliation. So he decided to wait, draw out Dean’s suffering and then when he finally forgot… Castiel would pounce.

He figures now’s a good time as any.

Dean schedules these movie nights at least once a week and insists that everyone be present. Now that Chuck is defeated and there are no monsters left, there’s really no excuse for them _not_ to be there. Except, Sam is out with Eileen tonight, so it’ll just be Dean and Castiel. At the thought he smirks in the darkness, hunkering further into the couch. Ideally Sam would be here to witness his mastery, but alas, that’s why he’s recording everything with his phone. It’s tucked away right on the shelf near the door; the perfect position to catch Dean’s terrified expression.

That’s right. When all is said and done, Castiel will have a nice little memento of Dean’s shrieks. That’ll teach Dean not to slam pies into his face.

He’s almost fifteen minutes early but Dean often comes in a few minutes before to set things up.

Clunk! Clunk!

Castiel stills as the sound of the footsteps become louder.

Almost shaking with anticipation, he tries to remain as still and as silent as possible. It will all be for naught if Dean walks in and catches a glimpse of his head or a leg that’s sticking out.

The footsteps slow to a halt as Dean nears the door. There’s a moment of deafening silence right before the light switch flicks on.

That’s his cue.

“Boo!”

Castiel burst forth from his spot on the couch causing Dean to yelp and shrink back in fright, his bowl of popcorn going flying in all directions.

Unable to contain himself any longer, Castiel lifts his head and laughs raucously, pointing a finger at Dean as he leans on the couch for support.

“I ‘got you good.’” He informs him smugly.

Dean’s eyes are still wide, his mouth still gaping in shock.

“You-” Dean’s expression turns hard. “You little shit. I’m gonna get you for this.”

Castiel just gives him a sweet smile, knowing that the camera is set up perfectly to record the entire thing.

“Look at what you made me do!” Dean whines, gesturing at the pieces of popcorn littering the floor.

They look different today. Castiel bends down, plucking the closest grain to inspect it.

“I believe your snack has gone bad, Dean.” He advises, handing over the grain. “It’s all brown and sticky.”

Dean scoffs at him in disbelief. “It’s caramel popcorn.” He says raising a brow. “You really need to get out more.” He mutters in a much lower tone.

With a flush, Castiel turns away. “I uh- sorry.” How was he supposed to know that _caramel_ of all things can be used to coat a salty snack? Since when does Dean even like this?

He’s about to ask, but he’s silenced by Dean’s finger on his lips.

“Now I’ve got to make another bowl.” He complains.

Castiel wants to say something but Dean’s fingers on his lips are too distracting.

Neither of them move for what seems like an eternity. Dean’s fingers press against his lips and he looks at Castiel so intently that the angel feels close to combusting.

“Your eyes are so pretty.” He murmurs, his head shifting a little closer.

His ‘pretty’ eyes widen at that, causing Dean to smirk at him.

As Dean’s lips seem to get even closer, Castiel allows himself to hope. That maybe Dean wants him too.

The first brush of Dean’s lips against his short-circuits his brain. He can do little but gasp and arch into the touch. Dean complies pressing his lips firmly against Castiel in a way that makes his knees tremble.

Then, all of a sudden, Dean pulls away and smirks. “Told you I’d get you back.”

At first he’s confused, he tries to take a step forward only to find himself falling. That’s when he remembers it: his deal.

He tries to wrench himself upright but the floor isn’t under his feet and everything is black.

The last thing he hears as he fades into an endless sleep is the Shadow’s voice. “Welcome back, Castiel.”

…

Dean tosses a grain of popcorn into the air and catches it in his mouth, enjoying the salty goodness. He’s pretty sure this should be enough for him and Cass. He _did_ have a bigger bowl somewhere, but he can’t find it now. Weird. Maybe Sam filled it with _vegetables_. Ugh. Dean shivers at that horrid thought.

Doesn’t matter though, when they run out, Dean can just pause the movie to make more.

When Dean enters the room the lights are already on. He pauses at the door and glances around. Popcorn litters the floor but Cass is nowhere in sight. He wouldn’t put it past the little bastard to try to jump scare him for the trick he pulled.

He smiles just thinking about it. Pie in the face. A real classic.

And he wasn’t even joking about eating it off of him. Not that he could tell Cass that without making things weird between them.

Dean stands there for almost a minute before frowning. It’s not like him to skip out on movie night. All his instincts are screaming that something is wrong.

“Cass?” Dean calls shakily, hating the deafening silence that follows.

He does a quick sweep of the room. Definitely no angel.

A blinking red light gives him pause.

It’s a phone… Cass’ phone, and it’s still recording.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all, thank you for reading this horror fest. It felt really great to get all these ideas out... and even better to know that you guys liked it! This is the end... for now.
> 
> For anyone who may be confused: The first Dean who came in with the caramel popcorn was the Shadow who kissed Cass to trigger his deal. Then the real Dean came in for movie night and was shook. But, at least he found the recording and won't spend the rest of his life thinking that Cass left forever on movie night.


End file.
